


Coming Home

by limjaeseven



Series: Verse 2 [1]
Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Fluff, M/M, Memory Loss, Sad Park Jinyoung (GOT7)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:20:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29064225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limjaeseven/pseuds/limjaeseven
Summary: Jinyoung doesn’t remember his past, but what happens when he does?Verse 2: Part 1 of 8
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung
Series: Verse 2 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132364
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Coming Home

The loud pitter-patter of raindrops against the slanted window of the attic Jinyoung lived in was music to the man’s ears. Though they matched the tears running down his pale cheeks, he loved the rain more, the act of nature being both overwhelming and soothing to his soul.

Jinyoung couldn’t remember how long he had stayed in the little room on top of an old lady’s house in the middle of nowhere. He couldn’t remember how or when he got there, he couldn’t remember a time before he’d lived in the attic, just ghosts of past memories plagued his dreams at night.

The rain though, the rain always reminded him of a past that he supposedly had before his current life, a past where he wasn’t alone, where he didn’t survive off of the meagre pay he got working four boring jobs, where he didn’t need to beg the old lady to let him stay for a month without paying the rent because he didn’t have enough money to buy food for himself.

There was only a single, old tubelight in the room that flickered every now and then, the small window being his only other source of light in the room. It was early in the evening, it had rained enough that the water would pool around his ankles if he were to step out. He sat on the windowsill, his fingers pressed firmly against the glass, as if he could feel the raindrops on his fingertips.

The flickering stopped when the light finally gave out, Jinyoung knew well he didn’t have enough money to replace it and he’d tried everything he could to fix it for months to no avail. Sighing, he turned back to the window, the thunder kick starting his dying heart instead of scaring him.

Jinyoung’s clothes were full of holes, frayed edges and snagged threads. He didn’t own a coat to wear in the winters, he just shivered in the cold and bought medicines to keep himself alive. His raincoat was a piece of tarpaulin he had stapled into the shape of a poncho to make sure he didn’t drench his work uniform. He didn’t grab it when he slipped on his worn out shoes and stepped out of the room.

The house had a back entrance, that’s what Jinyoung usually used, trying his best to keep away from the lady in the house. Her eyes always unsettled Jinyoung, she talked of a life he had never lived but she somehow knew about. She would talk about a boy, one that Jinyoung apparently knew well enough to call ‘hyung’, of spending nights with him, pondering over their future in cold nights in his childhood.

He let one foot hover in the air in front of him so that the rain hit his exposed toes from the holes in his shoes, relishing the cold shivers that ran up his spine. Leaning his body weight forward, he planted the leg firmly in the ground, pushing himself off the patio right under the harsh downpour.

It didn’t take long for the water to soak into his clothes and chill him down to the bone, the cold freezing his heart in the best way Jinyoung could imagine. His wet hair hung in front of his face, covering his eyes but he didn’t bother pushing them away.

His feet carried him to the front of the house, as if they had a will of their own, and made him walk down the long, narrow path that connected the house to the main road. Jinyoung didn’t know where he was going, why he was walking down this path at that time on that day. He had done it a million times before, as he went to and came back from work, but this time it felt different.

His feet dragged along the small stones that covered the soil underneath his feet, pushing them around. The sound just added to the sensations that racked up and down Jinyoung’s lean, almost malnourished body. He almost reached the turn to the road when his toes hit something hard in the ground.

Bending down to squat near the object, Jinyoung dug around the item to pull it out of the ground. What he found was a small tin, rusted with the ravages of time. The reddish brown colour of the iron oxide didn’t help him identify the origins of the box, but he forced it open anyways.

Inside was a watch, its gold plating chipping away around the left side of the metal strap. It wasn’t running, stuck at 1:31:23, but it looked like it was well worn in its time, the locking mechanism loose from the likely wear of the accessory. Jinyoung didn’t know who it belonged to, but it reminded him of his own watch, one that never worked properly, counting the same second over and over again.

Jinyoung didn’t remember getting his own watch, the old lady said she gave it to him and his ‘hyung’ when they were still young, but he had no memory of it. He had no memories of his parents, his childhood, his friends, his school, just broken pictures in his mind from a place full of greenery, dark forests and endless roads. He wasn’t alone though, whenever he dreamed about the place, there was always someone next to him, behind him, in front of him, but whenever he turned to see their face, he woke up.

He thought that the man was the ‘hyung’ the old lady talks about, he had the same broad shoulders, black hair, slim waist and long legs she described. He didn’t know his name, but it felt like it was stuck right in his throat, his body refusing to voice it out. That didn’t make sense though, Jinyoung had never seen a place like that in his life, at least he had no actual memories of it, just those pictures in his mind, just those phantom voices.

The voices hurt the most, they spoke of times Jinyoung didn’t know about, of things Jinyoung never did, of people Jinyoung never saw. He thought it was just his mind playing with him, because the old lady would talk about the same memories he didn’t have, but it would always be after he’d heard the voice, after he’d had the dreams.

Suddenly though the rain stopped, instead he heard the pitter-patter against a sheet of plastic. He stood up and felt a warmth behind himself, his nose filled with the scent of almonds and chocolate. ‘Jaebeom’ he whispered. He had never heard the name before but he somehow knew it. He didn’t bother turning back, he knew that the man would disappear the moment he tried.

He instead took in the warmth, and suddenly his clothes weren’t soaked anymore, the watch was no longer in his hands, but wrapped firmly around the wrist that held onto his hips, a chin coming to sit on his shoulder. ‘Jinyoungie’ the voice whispered in his ear, and the world around him turned black.

When Jinyoung opened his eyes, the umbrella was gone, the man was now sitting with his back against Jinyoung’s back, in the middle of a road that came from nowhere and led nowhere. He had a phone in his hand, headphones coming from it that sat in his ears, narrating a book he’d never read. Jinyoung blinked and the world went black again.

This time he was in front of a huge signboard, one that pointed in two different directions at the centre point of a T Junction. His fingers were laced with Jaebeom’s, their backs still pressed each other’s though this time he was standing. His eyes closed again and the world went black again.

He saw things he hadn’t seen before every time he opened his eyes, they all somehow felt familiar though, as if he’d experienced them in another life. He was in a clearing in a field when he stood next to the man and looked up to gaze at the skies but suddenly rain was hitting his face. He was back in the field, there was no umbrella over his head, there was no warmth behind him, just the cold water hitting his already soaked skin.

Jinyoung didn’t know when the tears started falling, he just remembered falling down to his knees, the watch tightly held in his hands as the memories came flooding back to him, the picture of Jaebeom’s smiling face looking at him as they stargazed that night in the middle of nowhere in Hokkaido, Japan.

He remembered the faces of his parents, his sisters, his friends, but most importantly, Jaebeom’s. He remembered the last time he saw the man and lost all his strength, his breath thinning as the hypothermia kicked in. His heart tried to keep moving on, but the voice of a Japanese reporter was all he heard as his brain shut down and he fell flat on the gravel.

**BREAKING NEWS**

_Actor Park Jinyoung of Icarus and When My Love Blooms fame, age 30, found dead in front of his childhood friend’s house. The man died of hypothermia while being out in the rain for over four hours in the middle of the lowest temperature rain recorded in history._

**Author's Note:**

> Any kudos and comments are much appreciated


End file.
